Before the year’s up, I’d like to read another Dark Tower novel, and acquire books by two authors I feel like I should have started reading a long time ago — that is, George R.R. Martin’s Song of Ice and Fire series, and something (other than The Gypsy) by Robin Hobb/Megan Lindholm.
Melissa and I discussed literary sex scenes today on the couch at work. I have yet to actually write one in a serious work. Yes, with the exception of a few attempts when I was younger, I’m a sex scene virgin.
I find most sex scenes rather silly. “Hot, throbbing manhood” just makes me giggle. It doesn’t turn me on (is it meant to?); it’s probably why I never got into romances or cybersex. In my long life as an online gamer, the one time I got enmeshed in a sexy exchange I was bored and annoyed with the grammar, punctuation, and spelling of my partners. If that enlightens anyone on anything about me.
I’m approaching the one, solitary, two-to-three page scene in my book. And the question is — will I go into hot, throbbing detail, or will I be subtle and light-handed with it? I’ll know in a day or so.
Speaking of which, I did write last night — a long, convoluted argument between two characters that I went back and rewrote today. The edits for this thing are going to be horrendous. I fear I may need a spreadsheet.
A rock-solid, pulsing spreadsheet.
yeah I drive naked through the park
and run the stop sign in the dark
stand in the street
yell out my heart
to make to make you love me